In the forgotten village of Ravenshade, a sprawling pit sat at its center, encased by crumbling stone walls etched with ancient symbols. No one knew how deep the pit went or who built it, but the villagers avoided it like a festering wound, warning their children never to go near it.
Legends spoke of strange sounds rising from the pit at night - faint whispers, like a chorus of disembodied voices reciting something unholy. Those who dared to linger nearby swore the whispers formed words, calling their names, promising forbidden secrets. Some dismissed it as wind funneling through the cracks of the old stones, but others whispered of the cursed "Abyssbound."
The Abyssbound were those who had fallen victim to the pit's alluring whispers. They would claim to hear the voice of loved ones long dead, pleading for help. Drawn by an unseen force, they'd leap into the pit... never to be seen again.
An ambitious journalist named Nia arrived in the village, determined to uncover the truth. She was skeptical of the legends but intrigued by the mystery. Armed with recording equipment, she stationed herself at the edge of the pit one stormy night, determined to capture the whispers.
Hours passed with nothing but the howling wind - until midnight struck. The air grew unnaturally still, and the whispers began, soft and layered like a sinister hymn. Her equipment detected no sound, but she could hear them clearly. And then, to her horror, she recognized one of the voices - it was her mother's, who had died when Nia was a child.
The voice begged her to descend, promising reunion and answers to lifelong questions that had haunted her. Despite her terror, an unrelenting compulsion gripped her. She fastened a rope and descended into the abyss.
As she descended, the walls of the pit seemed to shift, forming grotesque faces that whispered incoherent words. Her flashlight revealed strange, glistening growths on the walls, resembling organic tendrils. The deeper she went, the louder the whispers grew, merging into an incomprehensible cacophony.
Finally, the rope ended, but the pit stretched infinitely below her. She realized she had been tricked; the whispers weren't her mother at all. They were something ancient, something hungry. The tendrils surged upward, wrapping around her legs, pulling her down. Her screams were swallowed by the pit.
Days later, the villagers discovered her camera at the edge of the abyss, footage intact. It ended with Nia pointing the camera down into the pit as the whispers transformed into guttural growls. Her final words on tape chilled the villagers to their core:
"It's not a pit... it's a mouth."
From that day forward, the villagers began hearing new whispers at night - Nia's voice among them, calling out for help.
